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Literature
hush
i'm done wishing
on shooting stars, and
i want to be done with you:
i'll let dust settle
on my telescope,
let dust settle in
my throat, my lungs.
twist your fingers through
my vocal cords,
press your palm to
my lips and tell me, hush
don't wish on things
falling too fast
to hear you

--
maybe i'll wish
on seashells
instead:
they are quiet houses
for muted ghosts, though
more alive than you
have ever been.
i'll let you
pull me under,
paint my eyes
with salt, blind me
so you can murmur, shh
even dead things
can be beautiful
:iconmoondrums:moondrums
:iconmoondrums:moondrums 276 115
Literature
An Adventure- Bilbo x Reader Chpt. 2
You were laying on the back of your large black point dun gelding, using his neck as a back rest so you could look up at the sky, when Bilbo caught up to the company. A wide smile spread across your face and you slipped from your high perch to greet him with a question, “You’ve decided to join us?” 
He nodded, still trying to catch his breath, and you swept him into a hug as you exclaimed, “Fantastic!” 
He was unsure of how to respond to your sudden affection but it didn’t matter as you quickly released him to give a wicked grin to the company of dwarves behind you, “Pay up!” 
There were a number of coins tossed in your direction as Gandalf chuckled and Bilbo gawked, “You wagered on whether or not I would come?” 
You offered him a grin and a wink, “I had faith you would join us before the day was out and they did not.” 
Thorin waved a hand, “Give him a pony.” 
He protested
:iconTheBeethatHums:TheBeethatHums
:iconthebeethathums:TheBeethatHums 135 33
Literature
Losing it (Sherlock x Reader-Drabble)
“You don’t smoke.”
You puffed out the smoke you were holding in your lungs through your nose, your eyes closed, “You aren’t real.”
Sherlock frowned as you took another long drag of your cigarette and then put it out on his gravestone, shaking your head as if trying to clear your thoughts. You turned and let your eyes slide open, looking at him for only a moment before drifting past him, “You aren’t real. Please go away. John’s already thinking of committing me and I would prefer that not happen.”
“(F/n)…” he called but you kept moving, “I don’t want to see you anymore, Sherlock. I can’t handle this. It’s unhealthy.”
You really didn’t believe he was there, what had you been seeing for you not to believe in what was right in front of you?
He jogged to catch up with you, placing himself in your path and holding your shoulders, and you looked up at him for a moment before yank
:iconTheBeethatHums:TheBeethatHums
:iconthebeethathums:TheBeethatHums 483 76
358 by endonezya 358 :iconendonezya:endonezya 208 34 . the princess and the devil . by luleiya . the princess and the devil . :iconluleiya:luleiya 9,005 437
Literature
a quoi ca sert l'amour
She remembered that night better than he did. The way he was dressed, how he talked, what he ate, where he was staying—the ring on his finger, fresh from January, and it shined under the dim light, her warning sign to stay away; a warning sign she took seriously and knew well. She kept the thought vigilant in her mind with every fidgeted rub to her own naked ringfinger under the table, the ghost of the engagement then and the marriage that never was. Her boyfriend beside her should've been reason enough to resist the obvious magnetism and subsequent temptation, but she found herself captivated by this man of her French homeland, who listened to every word she said with a rapt attention her boyfriend would never match. He kept conversation going. He asked questions and listened to her babbling answers. He made her feel special in a way that the Hollywood gift baskets and showering of flashing lights and Al Pacino and Entertainment Tonight couldn't replicate. He was real. He made he
:iconrushingtide:rushingtide
:iconrushingtide:rushingtide 74 18
Literature
The Beauty of a Woman
The beauty of a woman
Is like the lotus -
Most of it is hidden from the eye.
:iconIvanRadev:IvanRadev
:iconivanradev:IvanRadev 191 143
Literature
and so lucifer made him
his voice was thickly poured
orange juice,
(concentrated, it seemed-- just for
you)
on a
deserted skeleton beach;
sun seeping through
jagged and rustling
timber bones.
but he was
lying through his teeth;
knee-deep in saturated
words that he should've
kept to himself,
and
gritty sand forged instead of his
own name.
("even lucifer at first seemed
beautiful"),

the sun coughed out.
and he just stood there,
black gems in his eyes and
a pitchfork in his
right hand,
finally shedding his
skin.
(at last, i thought.
i found not only the cracks
of his teeth, but
the crook in his jaw.)
:icondelirious-eyes:delirious-eyes
:icondelirious-eyes:delirious-eyes 11 13
Literature
unmade
clean, now, of your diaries;
sun cut, singed through the brume
pure and guiltless as a virus, white
without a needle eye or task to
lay into your inner brides, the bent
to disturb your wealth of fruit skins
or run my pathos through the calculus
and see my dimples rise as underlings
to terrorize your pond face, scold its careful
glass with frost or lunge into your acquiescence,
the satin cinch for your panoplies,
to make pillows for my wreck.
what am i when i’ve no effigy for doubt,
no biorhythms to sicken with childish bellows from my song?
there is no dormant eggshell to gather up this loss
and nothing left from which to birth;
if i cannot be of something else,
then nothing will become me.
:iconspoems:spoems
:iconspoems:spoems 25 12
Between Time and Space by yuumei Between Time and Space :iconyuumei:yuumei 23,713 662 sunday morning nostalgia by delirious-eyes sunday morning nostalgia :icondelirious-eyes:delirious-eyes 5 2 afternoon playtime by delirious-eyes afternoon playtime :icondelirious-eyes:delirious-eyes 32 8
Literature
you are single.
you’re not single because you didn’t forward that chain letter,
because your replies were too quick
because you missed one of his
because you said the wrong thing.
you’re not single because
your tits are too small or
her ass looks better in those pants or
you have a stomach or
“men want women with curves.”
you’re not single because you’re messy
you’re not single because you’re not ladylike enough
because you don’t fit in
because you’re too ugly
because you’re too this, you’re not enough of that.
you’re not single because who would date somebody like you?
you’re not single because you fall in love too easily,
or because you don’t open up enough.
you are not single because your heart is too big
or too small.
relationships are not gained through meticulousness,
at how precisely your words land
and how perfect your face is when you laugh.
you are not single because it’s what you deserve
:iconcolbalt-rain:colbalt-rain
:iconcolbalt-rain:colbalt-rain 742 345
Literature
slowly, and then all at once
and for once, he slips on his wedding ring, to cure the monotony.  it slides over his knuckle, a perfect fit, and in the morning release of sunlight the silver gleams at him.  it glares, calling him a liar: she is not a whorehouse and you are too broke to own her, you harlot, you.  he buttons up, tucks in his shirt tail, and buckles his belt.  the clinking of metal parts is the only sound in the room besides the dusting of her breathing beside him.  and when he's gone, the only thing he leaves behind are the bruises on her collarbone.
-
you find him because you're lonely, (well, it's actually the opposite.)  he finds you because his wardrobe is black and his shoes are scuffed and he asks you where your castle is.  you're the only princess he sees 'round here.  the rain soaks into his shirt and he curses it, grinning.  and damn girl, you follow him, because you think you see some kinda warmth in his ice blue eyes.
-
it takes you days t
:iconA-Lovely-Anxiety:A-Lovely-Anxiety
:icona-lovely-anxiety:A-Lovely-Anxiety 79 38
drops 038 by asharia drops 038 :iconasharia:asharia 489 46
Literature
i'll just be blowing smoke, broke and confused
4:00pm
your body is blue and
starry-skinned;
your kneecaps a galaxy of
sinning and crucified
stars--
your lips moving against the
sticky humidity and my eyes
tracing your
dusty eyelashes,
wondering if, maybe,
you were that blue polka-dotted
band-aid i lost in the swimming pool
that day i pretended to soak in my
own washed-out eyelids.
just another washed-out
artist, wearing a lucky penny
on my thigh

12:am
your eyes are hooked onto my
cheekbones like a baited
fishing rod, but
i can't swim,
anyhow.

1:00am
he's finally learned what
it means to lose
your own
beating heart.
i taught him how to scale
it proportionately to his
chest, he grimaced the whole time
but his eyes
were wildfire in a savannah
desert.

"you claim to be an expert
on something you lost years
ago."
:icondelirious-eyes:delirious-eyes
:icondelirious-eyes:delirious-eyes 10 1

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nightnocturne78
Angela
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States

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:iconivanradev:
IvanRadev Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2014  Professional General Artist
Thank you for collecting "The Beauty of a Woman" :heart:
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:iconspoems:
spoems Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2014   Writer
Thanks for stopping by. 
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:iconnightnocturne78:
nightnocturne78 Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
No problem.
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:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Feb 7, 2014   Writer
:hug:
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:iconnightnocturne78:
nightnocturne78 Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
<3333
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:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Feb 9, 2014   Writer
:huggle: <3
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:iconpoetryod:
PoetryOD Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2014
:icondbthx1::icondbthx2::icondbthx3:
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:iconsaltwaterlungs:
saltwaterlungs Featured By Owner Jan 29, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the favourites!
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:iconnightnocturne78:
nightnocturne78 Featured By Owner Jan 30, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome!
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:iconhugqueen:
HugQueen Featured By Owner Jan 28, 2014   Writer
:hug: Thank you so much for the favorite.
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